Stillness
by Deathangel125
Summary: Trowa reflects on the past and present behavior of someone close to him


Disclaimers: Not mine. I wish they were, but sadly, they belong to someone else with a lot more money than I have.

Pairings: 3+2/3x2

Warnings: There be men in them there hills, doing things they shouldn't be. If you don't like it, don't read it. Yaoi, with a dash of lime. Trowa POV (I do a lot of these for some reason. I like trying to imagine what he would be thinking. I mean, even if he's quiet, that doesn't mean he's not thinking it.

AN: I needed a break from another story that is much more confusing and convoluted, so several small, short stories were a good way to give my brain that much needed rest. This is one of those stories. It's sweet, sappy, and predictable, but it's Trowa and Duo, so who cares, right? Enjoy! Feedback always appreciated.

STILLNESS

Duo has moments of…stillness. I don't know how else to describe it. He simply stands and looks at nothing, barely even breathing. It's something I discovered during the war, not entirely by accident.

After a grueling battle, there were rare times when we remained together, either some or all of us, depending on the circumstances. I began to notice Duo always acted the same, joking and teasing everyone, especially Heero, and telling crude stories that had us shaking our heads and feeling marginally better. It was his way of reminding us what we fought for – so other people could live without the fear of war hanging over their heads, so they could have the freedom to joke, tease, and tell stories that would have their friends shaking their heads in confusion or disgust.

I wondered how he kept from experiencing the remorse and guilt the rest of us felt. Duo never seemed to have a time when he doubted what we were doing, or that we wouldn't win. He was always the same, smiling and cheerful, while the rest of us were plagued by screams of the dead, dying, and defeated. I wondered if he felt anything, or if he had long ago been driven insane.

It occurred to me a few months after we finally met that Duo disappeared each time he thought we felt a bit better about ourselves, and our most recent mission. After realizing this, my brain produced a slew of reasons he would abruptly vanish; Duo was a spy, leaking information to the enemy, he was meeting someone for a rendezvous, or perhaps he was using the time to spy on us, his colleagues. In my defense, a troubled childhood and a vivid imagination are not the best combination.

The next time we had a long battle, I watched Duo after we returned to the broken down cottage we had been holed up in for days. It was only the two of us – the others had orders to go elsewhere – so I had to be careful about seeming overly curious as I tried to convince him I was fine.

He stayed around longer than he typically did, but I pretended to ignore him as I did some tests on Heavyarms to ensure he hadn't been harmed during the fight. My attention was mostly on my long-haired teammate, so I knew the precise moment he fell silent, and the instant he slipped out of the run-down barn where our Gundams were stored. I was following as he walked away from the barn, then around the cottage. After that, he went through a small garden, long taken over by weeds, and up a hill. Since there was nowhere to hide at the top, I waited at the bottom, watching to see what he would do next.

As I looked on, Duo just…froze. He didn't fidget; his hands were motionless at his sides, eyes looking at something in the sky I couldn't see. Seeing someone in perpetual motion abruptly being so still was almost frightening, yet peaceful in a way I wasn't able to understand.

How long I watched him that first time, I don't know. I do know it was the first time I realized Duo was beautiful. Although he was motionless, the wind played with his hair, blowing his bangs away from his face and stretching the braid behind him as if he were running. The breeze ruffled his signature black clothing as he kept his head tilted up to the sky, expression never wavering as wisps of hair escaped the confinement of the braid to play about his face.

By the time I decided to go back to the barn, my legs were sore from remaining in one position for so long. Duo didn't appear to be uncomfortable at all. Making my way back to my Gundam, I was curious yet confused, baffled yet intrigued. I wanted to know more about this person that seemed to have an unending supply of energy, yet could remain still for so long for no apparent reason.

When he returned to the barn nearly an hour after me, he seemed calmer and more at ease. Before his time alone, he had been much like a child after too much sugar – unable to keep from talking and dancing about the available space. After, he worked on his own Gundam without saying anything for a long time.

During the time we spent working side-by-side, I found myself noticing things I hadn't before. My hands are large – not fat, but wide with long fingers. Duo's hands are slender, fragile in appearance. I realized his hair isn't one color, but a deep chestnut with streaks of red and gold shooting through it. I noticed he hummed absently, stopping when he eventually heard himself. I saw all this and more that evening, and felt I had seen the real Duo Maxwell for the first time.

I don't mean Duo was concealing who he was, because there is a part of him that is a joker, someone that feels the need to make people laugh. This side of Duo, however, was one I sensed very few people had a chance to see, and I took the privilege without saying anything about it, knowing it would make him uncomfortable.

Reuniting with the others for our next mission was a sad time for me. I knew while we were around them, the quiet, peaceful side of Duo would be hidden. Our next battle lasted hours, and took a toll on all of us. As Duo did his normal routine of trying to cheer everyone, I saw that behind the smiles and jokes there was a horror of what we had done in his odd violet eyes. I waited, watchful, for the moment he disappeared, following him again, this time until he reached the crest of a sand dune outside one of the Maguanacs hidden installations.

Facing the hot desert sun without even the smallest breeze to move his hair, Duo remained motionless again, staring at something I couldn't see. It was only by a miracle of the light I was able to see the glint of tears as they fell silently, finally able to understand.

Duo was grieving in the only way he would allow himself. Alone. Realizing this, I went back to the relative coolness of the bunker, getting a bottle of water and waiting near the entrance. When Duo came in, his clothes and hair were soaked with sweat, his pale skin flushed from the heat. I handed him the water, smiling as he took it without a word. His eyes reflected the pleasure he attained from that small act of kindness, clear now of the torment they had held.

It's easy for me to recall that moment as I finish up paperwork I could have left until tomorrow. After putting it in the case file, I turn off my computer and go searching for my partner. This assignment was a difficult one, and I knew upon returning to the building in which we both work he would need some time alone. It isn't hard for me to find him, though. He has a routine, one I know well.

Find the highest area you can reach, whether it's on a hill or the top deck of a shuttle looking out among the stars. Always face the direction of the sun or where the sun would be if it was visible. Because of these rules, I go up the stairs to the roof, opening the door carefully. It's been almost two hours since Duo left our shared office, but I know he feels there is a lot to grieve, and he's right. I'll grieve later, in the only way I know how –by taking out my frustrations on a punching bag at home before I talk about it. It's my own routine, one he knows as well as I know his.

Closing the door behind me silently, I step out onto the roof and stop as I see him standing motionless, staring into the distance. He's told me before he doesn't mind my presence, but I feel this is something he needs to do alone.

It's been over ten years since I saw him this way the first time, and he is even more beautiful to me than he was then. His hands are still slender, deceptively fragile, though they bear more scars than they did in our teens. His hair is still a deep chestnut with highlights of red and gold, but some grey is beginning to thread its way in, as well.

It's a surprise when he turns to me with a smile, and I return it as I join him near the edge of the roof. His eyes are calm and peaceful; shining with a love we rarely speak of, as we were taught to hide our emotions at a young age. When we get home, away from prying eyes, our feelings will be clear enough.

For now, I stand beside Duo, close enough for our hands to brush against each other. "I've been thinking it might be time for us to retire."

Duo thinks about it for a moment, then nods slowly. "Why so sudden?"

I want to tell him I hate these moments of stillness he has. I hate seeing the self-loathing in his eyes when something goes wrong on assignments. I despise knowing he is performing a kind of penance when he stands motionless. I want to say all these things, but don't. I don't know how to verbalize such feelings without saying the wrong thing, so I simply shake my head and look down at him, hoping he can see what I can't say.

Seeming to understand, he nods back at me with a half-smile. "We'll talk to Une on Monday. You're right. It's past time. We've paid our dues."

Because I know him so well, I know he speaks of the violence that has been part of our lives since we were old enough to wield weapons. It's rare that we touch in public, but I put my arm around his shoulders and hold him against my side, my voice low as he leans his head on me, revealing his weariness. "This part of our lives is over."

"I think you're right, Trowa. This is over."

As we make our way to the door, I hope there will never be another moment of stillness for Duo.


End file.
